It’s been said that 2016 has been “the worst year ever” and it certainly has been grim. We’ve seen the deaths of Prince and David Bowie, the rise of racism and
bigotry around the world, and the deaths of several notable comic creators and
friends including Darwyn Cooke, Tony Luke, Alan Mitchell, Chris Andrew and
then, over the weekend my old friend, Steve Dillon.
Like most
of my comic friends I can’t remember when I first met Steve
but it’ll be around 1988/1989. But I do remember
seeing his work in 2000 AD (in particular the 1983 Judge Dredd: Cry of the Werewolf series) and Warrior’s Laser Eraser & Pressbutton. As a youngster I became obsessed with
his and Garry Leach’s artwork and spent days copying
their art, trying to decode the secret of their talent (obviously I failed).
I
spoke a lot about Steve in my memoir, Comic Book Babylon:
“After everyone had returned from the various publisher-paid parties and
meals, they would all congregate at the hotel bar and continue imbibing until
dawn. Things could get pretty chaotic and often the bar staff would close the
bar in a vague hope to dissuade the non-residents, and to encourage the
residents to go to bed. It never worked. More often than not Steve Dillon and
Garth Ennis led the Charge of the Light Ale Brigade, passing a couple of pint
glasses around and getting everyone to chuck in a quid or two in order to bribe the staff to keep the
bar open. It worked every time.”
Renowned
for being the last man standing in nearly every bar he was in, Steve had a well-founded
reputation for drinking prodigious amounts of Guinness. So it was perhaps unsurprising,
in the last few years of his life, when he was told by his doctor that if he
had one more drink it’d kill him. In typical Steve fashion
he simply quit. No wailing or gnashing of teeth. No huge fanfare. He just quietly
and simply switched to soft drinks. And the good news was his liver was
recovering and repairing itself and he was on the mend.
One word
that has come up more than once regarding Steve is humble. He wasn’t a bloke for hogging the spotlight or
attention-grabbing antics. He simply got on with honing his craft and being the
best he could be, which was being one of the best. Likewise, if he had any
personal problems or grief, he was never one to share his burdens or want to
trouble you with his woes (and he had been through some very hard times). No
ranting and raving on Twitter for Steve. Typically this “stiff upper lip” eventually was what did for him, as it turns out it wasn’t the booze, that many thought would kill him,
but rather that other word I associate with Steve, stoicism. Apparently, he’d
had a burst appendix whilst in New York for the comic con, and starting having
nausea and other symptoms. The pain must’ve been incredible, but he typically
put a brave face on it, waiting until he could see his doctors back in the UK.
Sadly Peritonitis beat
him to it.
There are
far too many anecdotes I could share (Being at the launch of Deadline, the hilarious
late night drinking sessions with McCrea & Ennis, etc.) but right now it
just feels a bit too painful. So instead, here’s an unpublished interview I did with Steve way back in 2005, before the
Preacher TV series was even a glint
in Seth Rogan’s eye. I was saving it for a
potential Preacher companion book, but
that seems unlikely now. So here are some insights into our dear departed mate.
Steve Dillon
Interview
The Bricklayer’s Arms
and his studio, Luton
TP: You’ve stated in the past that all your family drew
including your father, Bernard.
SD: By trade he was a signwriter, he went to the London
School of Printing where he did an art course, but as another string to his bow
he could earn money doing painting and stuff. So, say for a florist’s he could
do the sign outside, but also some flowers on the side of the wall. In the days
before they could blow-up photographs really large he would do big paintings of
cruise liners for the Boat Show, six-foot panels. So he could always draw, and
me brother [Glyn Dillon] can draw, but it seems to run in the males as my
sister can’t draw! A couple of my sons can draw, so it’s just something that’s
run through the family.
TP: What were your earliest experiences with comics and how
did you break into the business?
SD: I used to get TV21
and Countdown and all that sort of
stuff. I used to get a Saturday morning comic delivered before the days of
Saturday morning telly. That was something to look forward to every week.
Occasionally I’d come across some American comics in the local newsagent, which
were different, but you could never get the next episode. So you’d buy a bunch
of comics and there’d be this big cliffhanger at the end of it and you’d never
know what happened to the hero. Then I found one newsagent in Luton that did
get them in on a regular basis, so I could follow the story. What really got me
into comics was the Planet of the Apes
TV series, as I was a big fan of them. So I bought the Apes [black and white] reprint that Marvel were doing in the UK,
and in the back of that was an advert for Colin Campbell’s mail order comics.
So I could get any comic I wanted delivered to the house on a regular basis, so
that’s what really pulled me into American comics. Me and a friend started a
little photocopied comic which we sold for 10p at school. I did my own
adaptation of the Planet of the Apes
movies. I did the whole of Escape from
Planet of the Apes. Which I adapted just by reading the whole of the book,
based on the movie. I’m drawing it, while reading the book, editing down the
dialogue and I did manage to get down to doing the whole of that movie. I was
around 14. When we were 16 me and my mate decided to do another comic. My
mate’s dad used to work at this place that had a photocopier, so we got free
photocopying. But then we thought we’d splash out on a bit of litho printing.
So I’d write and draw one, and he’d write and draw one and we actually got that
on the counter at Dark They Were and Golden-Eyed, before Forbidden Planet
opened. That was our first venture into publishing and I got to know Richard
Burton, who was editing Comic Media News,
a fanzine about American comics and I did a few things for him. Then he ended
up getting the job as assistant editor at Marvel UK under Dez Skinn, who was
editor there. This was when Marvel UK was starting to originate material using
British writers and artists based on Marvel characters.
Richard showed Dez some of the stuff I’d done for him and
I’d had some stuff that I’d done for fun and I sent that in. I was 16 and I’d
just started a foundation art course, and after three months on the first
Christmas holiday I got a call from Richard who said, “Dez likes your stuff and
wondered if you wanted to try out by doing a three-page Hulk strip.” So did it over the Christmas holidays and took it down
to the Marvel offices, which were in Kentish Town. Christmas 1978 is when I did
my first professional comics work. They liked it and basically Dez offered me
the job and asked, “Do you want to work full-time?” And I said, “Wooah, I’ve
just started college, what if you don’t like my stuff in a month’s time?”
Because I’d have to have left college. And I would have had nothing. No job. No
college. So Dez, very kindly – a rare thing for a freelancer to be offered –
year’s guarantee of work, at three pages a week. So that was enough security
for me and my parents to say, “OK, leave college.” I persuaded my parents by
saying “I’m at art college to get a job in the art field, preferably in comics,
and I’ve just been offered one after three months.”
TP: Do you think, if you’d stayed at college, it would have
helped or hindered you?
SD: It’s hard to say really. One of the advantages of going
to college or university is that you get to experiment with things and whether
I’d have disappeared up my own arse with fancy-dan art student ideas I don’t
know. Or I might have got bored with it and ended up doing photography. You
just don’t know. But it’s a time to practise and a time to socialise as what I
ended up doing really was sitting in my bedroom from the ages 16-18 doing
nothing but drawing comics.
They say you know you’re getting old when the policemen
start looking young. Well, when I reached the point that there were people in
the business younger than me, that’s when I realised I was getting old. Because
for ages all the people I knew in the game like Dave Gibbons, Brian Bolland,
and Mick McMahon were all quite a few years older than me at the time. They
don’t seem it now, when you’re older, but when your 16 and they’re in their
early 20’s they seemed so much older. And
now I’m the least fit out of all of them, most probably! It was a young age to
start, but when I left home and moved to London I made up for it. I didn’t do
much work for a couple of years and I had quite a bit of money in the bank from
working and not playing so I played and didn’t work for a while. I made up for
lost time on the social front.
TP: How did you and Garth Ennis meet?
SD: He was working on Crisis
and was still living in Belfast and we happened to bump into each other, and
it’s always nice to meet people in the business that you haven’t met before,
and we did seem to get on. Obviously, being a bit younger than me, he’d grown
up seeing my stuff in 2000 AD (Rogue Trooper and Judge Dredd) and I loved his stuff on Crisis. It was a bit of a surprise to see how young this fella was
and how good he was for that age. We seemed to click pretty well. I can’t
remember the first thing we worked on together offhand, because we’ve done so
much together. We did the Irish Judge thing [Emerald Isle in 2000 AD Progs
727-732], and that might have been the first thing we worked together on, but I
wouldn’t swear to it.
I was living in London at the time and if you wanted to get
some work that week in 2000 AD - it
was all a bit hand to mouth – unless they said “OK, you’ve got six episodes of Dredd in this story arc” or “You’ve got
six episodes of Rogue Trooper for
this run” sometimes you’d just have to be in the office when you thought the
scripts would come in, because the editor would go “Here, you’d be alright for
this one” and hand you the script, just because you where there. So I don’t
think the writers and artists got together and said, “We must do something
together” it was like, the writer sent a script in “Who’s the nearest artist?
Ah, there you go…”! That makes it sound more unprofessional that it was, but
there was a bit of that going on. Right time, right place always helped. It was
a weekly comic and often artists couldn’t do more than three issues at a go, so
stuff did get spread around more. I can’t remember how we ended up working on
the same thing, whether Garth was the writer and it was my turn to do an art
job or whether we actually said to each other…
Because when I moved to Ireland, I think that’s when we did
the Irish Judge story. Garth was in Belfast, I was in Dublin and it’s only a
two-hour train journey between us, and we thought it would be a laugh to do an
Irish Judge story, as they’d done a British Judge before and Hong Kong and
Russian ones. Plenty of potential for Guinness humour, so it was right up our
alleyway. So I really enjoyed that.
Funnily enough, I was offered Hellblazer at the same time Garth was, but I was working on Animal Man at the time and Art Young was
editing, and I didn’t want to let him down, because he’d been really good to
me. So I turned it down. So Will Simpson, who did a lovely job on it, he
started Garth’s run. Funnily enough, after I turned it down, Art Young left DC
Comics anyway, so I thought, “I could’ve gone to Hellblazer and not let Art down”. Then when Will decided to come
off Hellblazer I said I was up for
it, and Garth was happy, DC was happy, and that was it.
I was more than happy to do it as I ended up not being that
happy on Animal Man, as it wasn’t the
book for me. Because I hate drawing animals, so it was rather silly of me in
the first place to say yes. But it was the first offer of a regular (ongoing) comic
book, which, for me, was a big thing. I done a fill-in issue and when the
regular artists finally quit they offered me it, and I thought, “I can’t really
turn this down. It’s a year’s work” Which I wasn’t used to working for weekly
comics, which just didn’t work that way. In general I’d get work, but you
honestly didn’t know – at the end of each episode, or series – you might be a
week or two without work. And I had a second kid on the way and stuff, so the
security of someone saying “Well, you’ll be on this for a year” and I thought,
“Oh, fair enough.”
TP: How do you stop yourself being bored after 27 years of
drawing comics? And how do you avoid doing comics-by-numbers?
SD: I’ve probably been guilty of that on a number of
occasions. I know I’ve been bored on a number of occasions, and I know that
I’ve done by the numbers on a number of occasions. So the way to avoid that is
to work with people who you respect and respect what they do. So you don’t
sleep walk into it. When I start work with a new writer, they often ask “What
do you like to draw?” and my pat answer is always, “A good story”. I’m not one
of these artists into drawing giant robots or soldiers or big-titted women. Because
for me, it’s all about the story. I used to like writing as a kid as well, I
wasn’t just into the drawing, I was into the whole storytelling thing. And
Garth tells good stories, with good characters you can relate to, and so you’ve
got to be able to relate to – or at least like – the characters you’re drawing.
Because the acting side of comics is quite important to me. The facial
expressions, how they interact and all that sort of thing. But some people are
just into drawing big fight scenes, but I’m not one of those artists. I can if
I need to, but not as good as some, because some people have a love for it, so
that love shows through. I have a love for drawing people sitting in the pub
talking. My specialised subject!
TP: How would you say your art style has developed over the
years?
SD: It’s difficult because you’re close to it. There were a
number of factors that would change it. The colouring was one, how people
coloured things. I started out working in black and white, all of 2000 AD was
in black and white really, the Marvel UK stuff was in black and white. When
they started doing fully painted Dredd spreads I started doing those, but it
was very time-consuming for the money I got. So I wasn’t into full-painted
spreads particularly. With someone like John Higgins, who trained as a painter,
that was easy for him. He felt more comfortable without the line work. So when
I started working for American comics sometimes less was more. The colouring
has gone through an evolution, as you used to have flat colour therefore I
didn’t have to put Letratone over everything like I used to in black and white,
to give the art a bit of depth or whatever, because the colour could do that.
As the colouring got more complicated, with subtle grads and a bit of moulding
then it would conflict with too much line work. So you’d end up just indicating
stuff so the colourist knew where the light sources were. It doesn’t
necessarily make it easier, just because there’s less lines on it, because a
multitude of lines can cover a multitude of sins. Trying to do something more
minimalist can actually be harder than just bunging a whole load of lines all
over it. Alex Toth was the man. If you go through his career and how he got it
down to the barest minimum, but everything required was there. The knowledge
and experience you need to be able to do that is immense. I’ll never be in that
class, that bloke was a genius.
The other thing is the time factor. Your family gets bigger,
your house gets bigger, your bank overdraught gets bigger and unless you’re in
the lucky position of being able to spend two days on one page, that’ll effect
your art style.
TP: Do you consider yourself an fine artist or a commercial
artist?
SD: According to the Irish VAT office I’m in the “service
industry.” So I can’t really argue. It’s a strange mix between commercial art
and show business is comics. If you are working on say, Spider-Man, Marvel owns it and is hiring you to draw it so they can
sell it. But, it’s being creative. You’ve got the writer coming up with the
story. The artist has got to tell it in a creative way, like a film director interpreting
a script, so it’s a bit of a crossover. You can have your creative, arty-farty
moments that you can’t help, but, at the end of the day, you are selling comic books.
TP: Do you not have the urge to do more writing?
SD: I’d love to. But, again there’s a time/money issue. For
me to write something, because I’m not in the habit of writing comicbook
scripts – I can do it, but it would take me a hell of a lot longer than someone
like Garth who’s been doing it for years. So I get a lot of creative
satisfaction out of doing it, but the money per month would be less, purely on
the time factor. With something like Preacher
we were lucky, because it was our baby, and we came up with it, it was a very
personal story for us (six and a half year’s worth). And luckily it sold! We’ve
seen a lot of good Vertigo books that haven’t hit that main market. We didn’t
really hit the main market; we were a large cult favourite. We were never
selling as many as Batman or Superman, but it did well enough for
Vertigo to be happy that it was making money. So it gave us a bit more leeway.
If a thing is selling, you can get away with a bit more and say, “People like
this, it’s selling. Can we do this please?” We were definitely lucky with Preacher. But you can be creative with Spider-Man even though you don’t own it.
If you come up with a great idea you can be proud of it and get your creative
jollies out of that.
TP: What are your feelings on Preacher now?
SD: I haven’t re-read it yet. I probably said to Mark I’d
probably leave it a few years before I re-read it, but I still haven’t re-read
it and that would be interesting. Occasionally I see pages from it, and
probably like most comic artists, the moment you see a drawing you did – no
matter how many years ago – you can remember exactly how you did it, what the
situation was when you were doing it, what time of night it was, whether you
were drinking coffee or whether you were half-pissed! It all comes flooding
back, just like smells or music bring back memories. So it’s always strange
when I look back on that stuff because it was my life for such a long period of
time. I still miss the characters. I still miss drawing Cassidy, Jesse and
Tulip. Even at this stage it’s a large amount of stuff to look back on. I
forget whole story arcs!
I know which issues I wasn’t so happy with because I had to
do them quicker that I’d have wanted, or because I’d been lazy. And the same
people bought it every month, so you don’t like letting them down, and
sometimes I get a bit embarrassed for myself going “Ah, I didn’t do so well on
that one.” And others I can look back on and go “oh That’s better than I
remember” so sometimes I can be pleased with myself. Because it was a personal
story. It brings up different thoughts than say if I look back on my Dredd work. Much as I enjoyed Dredd, no insult to John Wager
obviously, but it wasn’t my baby.
TP: You did virtually no prep work for Preacher.
SD: I did one of Jesse, and as far as I was concerned that
was him. Funnily enough, for a preview book that Vertigo put out, I inked up a
thing with Jesse and he was wearing the collar the black shirt and the
reverend’s collar, but it was a black biker’s jacket I put on him. So that was
the one thing that changed from the early thoughts. So, I put in just a normal
black jacket from then on. I can’t remember if that’s because I thought it
would be a pain in the arse to draw a biker jacket for that length of time, with
the zips and the buttons and all that nonsense. It just seemed to work. Garth
had his own ideas of what the characters should look like.
TP: Did you change art techniques throughout the series?
SD: One of the major things that changed there if I remember
correctly was halfway through the story about Serial Si. That was all pure
brush inking. There was no pen work. So you get a very distinctive line from
that. But I think around then I started using pens like this [holds up an
Edding 1880] or whatever’s handy, Stadlers, whatever I’ve got on me. You
experiment. It does help make things a bit quicker. Dip pens give you a lovely
line, but you have to sit back a good ten minutes after you use them, to let
the ink dry otherwise you end up spreading it all over the page. I don’t think
I ever used a dip pen on Preacher. I
used it on Hellblazer. So if you’re
trying to work quickly, and like me, just getting into the flow of laying down
the lines, laying too much wet ink on the page can be a drawback.
If you use these sorts of marker pens you want one with a
bit of life in it, so you can get a bit of thick and thin line. Which you don’t
always do, but you don’t want dead rapidograph style line, where everything is
.3mm thick. You want to be able to put the pressure on and get a slightly
thicker or thinner line. I’ve got different sized pens here, at the moment I’m
using a .3mm because I’m doing a relatively small face, so I want to be able to
clearly draw the eyes so you can actually see what’s going on. Whereas on a
bigger face I’d use .7mm for exactly the same sort of thing. And for even big
splash pages I’ll use an even bigger pen.
TP: Have you ever used a brush pen?
SD: Yes, but unfortunately I’ve never found the ink dark
enough for repro. They’re quite handy as they always keep their point. That’s
another trouble with working with brushes is that they split, they fuck up and
end up knackered. And they’re quite expense and if one fucks up in the middle
of the night, you can’t work, unless you’ve bought a huge store of them, which
none of us are prepared to do! Whereas you can buy a whole box of markers and
you know what you’re going to get. But you do have to be careful as it can give
you a dead line and I’ve been guilty of that.
I’ve changed my technique a few times in my career. I’ve
gone from brush to marker to dip pen back to brush and everything. Sometimes
you just change to challenge yourself. But also over the six years of Preacher,
your style will change a bit. It’s unusual to have a run that’s so long that
you can actually notice how the characters change. If I’d only done it for a
year it wouldn’t have changed that much. The characters just evolved naturally.
TP: How did you come up with the design of heaven?
SD: [Laughs] What a brief to have! “Can we have a scene set
in heaven please?” Well, what do you do really? Because the angels…That’s a
dodgy one isn’t it? So I tried to make it as strangely mundane as possible for
one bunch of them – except for the funny haircuts – and put them in jogging suit-type
things [laughs]. Just practical, pull your top on, pull your bottoms on and get
on with your work. And then you’ve got the others, with the big wings and
strange eyes and tattoos, it was a contrast thing. The only exterior scene of
heaven can be explained away as a type of science fiction way of trying to hold
this spread powerful thing [Genesis].
TP: Who did you enjoy drawing the most in Preacher?
SD: That’s difficult…Doing that first shot of Jesse’s
Grandmother I actually rang Garth up and said, “Look, it only took you a couple
of seconds to write this horrendous description of this woman, I had to spend
all day drawing her and I don’t feel very well” [Laughs]. There was a lot to
get my teeth into. Starr was always fun, as he was always sneering a lot.
Cassidy had his moments…I dunno…I don’t tend to think of it that way as
“enjoying drawing” thing. I just started thinking of them as people in the end,
who I liked or didn’t like.
I could draw John Wayne, he’s pretty easy to draw, but it
was partly legal and partly that it’s never actually said it is John Wayne.
There’s so many heavy handed hints that it’s obvious it’s John Wayne, but the
legal aspect was there because the John Wayne Estate could be pretty litigious,
I believe, so best not to spell it out too much. And I think it worked better
that way anyway, to have the mysterious face.
I watched a lot of the same movies Garth had watched, which
formed his sensibilities about it. Sometimes we wanted that Paris, Texas feel, a bit of The Searchers thrown in occasionally. We
had similar sensibilities so I knew what he meant and what he was after for
certain things. So it was all stored up there in that laughable hard disk I
call my brain, so it comes out when required. Sometimes it’s best not to have
the actual reference in front when required because it’s best to get the
general feel for it rather than having it in front of you as you might be
picking up on the wrong things.
TP: What’s the worst thing Garth’s asked you to draw?
SD: Oh, Christ! I haven’t got long enough to answer that
question! There’s been some bizarre stuff though.
There’s lots more to this, but
I think that’s enough for now. Apologies if
this all feels a bit random and rambling. There’s
so much to say, but can’t bring myself to write
any more right now.
Rest in Peace, Fella, we all miss you terribly.
Thanks for this Tim, it's a fine tribute.
ReplyDeleteIt's far from being the worst year ever.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant!
ReplyDeleteFuck. It's just fucking awful that he's gone. I never met the guy but whenever he had an issue of something out I HAD to get it. Preacher was a revelation and his Punisher is seminal. I loved going back to see the 200ad stuff. A huge talent, he will be missed. Condolences to his family and friends.
ReplyDeleter i p steve from ian and graham north and family,, your cousins from london god bless xx
ReplyDeleter i p steve from your cousins in london ian graham and family xx
ReplyDelete